G Hopf: Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

“You’re not helping yourself. This Glock has a five pound trigger pull. Being that I’m angry, it feels more like a two pound pull, and I’m squeezing it right now. I’d say you have half a trigger pull left to tell me what you know before your fucking brains end up all over the wall.”

“A truck came the other day, brought a bunch of them.”

“How many?” Kyle asked pushing the muzzle deeper into his chin.

“I didn’t count.”

“Guess then.”

“Oh, I don’t know, fifteen maybe,” Conrad stammered.

“Did they all stay?”

“No, some left, about nine or ten, but I swear I don’t know who or their names, I swear,” Conrad pleaded.

“How many men does Frank have in there?”

“Ten, he has ten.”

“Where are they usually?”

“Some hang in the bar, some are back with the girls and others have a break room near the back, for the most part everyone in there now is one of Frank’s men on the account it’s early in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Kyle said pulling the trigger.

The top of Conrad’s head exploded. The old man toppled off his stool and smashed into the ground.

“One down, eleven to go,” Kyle said, the eleventh being Frank by Kyle’s count. He shoved the pistol into his waistband, tossed open the door and entered the bar.

“Hey, no guns, read the fucking sign!” a large fat man hollered from the back of the bar. He was sitting at a table with three others playing cards.

Kyle brought his rifle into play. He raised it, flicked the selector switch to SEMI and began to fire. His first two shots struck the fat man, he made a subtle turn and shot the man to his right and another next to him. He pivoted to the left and shot that man. The men fell over or lay face down on the table, all were dead.

Screaming ensued as the few patrons and girls began to flee for cover.

Kyle wasn’t going to let anyone off the hook though, he leveled his rifle at a patron and squeezed two shots off striking the man in the back. He turned and engaged two more men, driving bullets deep into their chest. Clearly he’d changed the targets but after seeing these men preying on the girls, he decided to add them to the kill list.

The break room door flew open and three of Frank’s men came running out, weapons in hand.

Kyle turned and unloaded on them. All of his shots hitting.

The men didn’t have a chance and tumbled to the ground dead.

Kyle’s next destination was through the green door, he threw the door open and entered to find one of Frank’s men coming towards him. He was zipping up his pants and had his weapon under his arm. This was too easy, Kyle raised his rifle and fired, the first shot struck the man in the upper chest but no second shot came as the bolt locked to the rear. The man dropped to his knees and cried out in pain.

Kyle hit the magazine release. The empty magazine fell to the floor with a clang. He loaded a fresh magazine, hit the bolt release and squeezed two more shots off. The man fell backwards.

At the far end of the hall, a woman stuck her head out, looked at Kyle and screamed in terror before slamming the door shut.

“Portia are you here? Portia!” Kyle yelled. He walked to the first door on the right, kicked it open but found the room empty. He proceeded to the door opposite, this time he found a man in bed with a young girl. He leveled the rifle and drilled the man with two well placed shots to the chest. The young girl sprang out of bed, tripped and lay in the corner crying. Kyle said, “You’re safe now. Do you know a woman named Portia?”

The girl shook her head vigorously indicating she didn’t know anyone by that name, fear gripped her as she lay huddled on the floor.

“Put your clothes on and just wait for me to return.” Kyle exited the room, stepped over the first man he’d shot and went to the second set of doors. He stepped back to kick it open when a volley of bullets burst out of the door, two striking him in the chest. He stumbled back and grimaced in pain. His armor plates had saved him. He stepped forward, kicked the door open and stepped back. “Portia, are you in there?”

The man inside opened up again with a nine millimeter pistol, the bullets hitting the far hallway wall and door jam.

Kyle waited patiently for the pistol to empty. When he heard the distinct metal click of the slide locking back, he stepped into the open doorway and fired a burst of fire at the man who was hiding behind the bed. Kyle’s shots were true and the man fell over. Like before, Kyle told the girl in the room to get dressed and just wait.

Room to room, Kyle went until he had cleared them all, but came up empty handed. Finished, he proceeded back to the main bar. He peeked around the corner to see Frank talking with one of his men. “I don’t give a shit, find him and kill him, now!”

Kyle stepped out, his rifle pointed at Frank and hollered, “Frank, it’s over, all your men are dead. I’m here looking for a woman named Portia.”

Frank quickly raised his shotgun and pointed it at Kyle. “You’re a fucking dead man. You know that? The second the Republic finds out you attacked this place, you’re a wanted man.”

“Too late, I’m already a wanted man, now answer the question. Where’s Portia?”

“I don’t know any cunt named Portia!” Frank screamed.

Frank’s lone man, stood next to him behind the bar, his hands fiddling with something.

Kyle turned and shot him in the neck then trained the rifle back on Frank. “I said don’t move.”

Frank watched in horror as his man, gagged and choked, his neck squirting blood. The man stumbled back and fell down. “You’re a fucking dead man.”

“Where’s Portia?”

“I don’t know anyone named that!” Frank yelled back.

“She’s not here, she went south on the truck,” Candace said appearing from the red door.

Keeping his muzzle pointed at Frank, Kyle looked at Candace. “She’s not here?”

“No,” Candace answered fearlessly walking to Kyle and opening her hand to show Kyle the ring. “She gave this to me and said if someone came asking for her, this would prove she was here.”

Kyle glanced at the ring for a second then put his attention back on Frank. “Candace, go gather all the ladies, get everyone ready to leave.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, you’re free.”

Candace turned and headed towards the Red door.

“You stop, Candy, don’t you dare get the girls. You’re not going anywhere!” Frank barked.

Candace stopped and turned to face Frank. “Fuck you, Frank!” she barked back holding up her middle finger.

Frank’s face turned red. He pivoted the shotgun in her direction.

Kyle was still trained on him and took the opportunity to fire. Several rounds blasted out of his rifle and struck him in the torso.

Frank reeled back, his finger pulling the trigger of the shotgun but the blast went into the ceiling.

Kyle ran towards him, hurdled the bar and found Frank on the floor coughing up blood. “You look like shit, Frank.”

“Fuck you,” Frank gargled.

Kyle let his rifle hang from the two point sling, he removed the axe, held it high then swung down, burying it deep into Franks’ face. “I told you I might come back.”

Candace rocked the swaddled baby in her arms and talked to her softly, “You’re so cute, yes you are.”

Seeing the tender and nurturing side of someone was a welcome reprieve for Kyle. Candace had agreed to take the baby girl, her gender finally identified. It was a happy ending for the child and for the girls from the Rusty Nail.

“You’re free, where will you go?” Kyle asked.

“Frank had a ranch, five miles up the road. We’ll go there for now. I know there aren’t any guarantees but we at least have a chance,” Candace said.